


but I know I'd miss you (if I left right now)

by akiraswaffles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Bullying, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt No Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Naxzela (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), Possible Character Death, So much angst, Suicidal Thoughts, because apparently i can't write a fic without them, eveyone else is mentioned, implied klance, in my head he survives but do what you want, it's only implied tho, kind of, this is literally just an angst dump im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akiraswaffles/pseuds/akiraswaffles
Summary: And now, he thinks maybe it was his fault. His mum left because of him, his dad died saving him.People didn't leave, he made them leave."Naxzela is a bomb! And it's about to go off!Thrusters are at max!"What is he supposed to do?He can't lose them. Not now. Not like this.Not again.
Relationships: Hunk & Keith (Voltron), Keith & Keith's Father (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Voltron Paladins
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	but I know I'd miss you (if I left right now)

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to "Sof is sad and projects herself onto her comfort character" (that's me, I'm Sof).  
> This fic is honestly just an angst dump, so I'm sorry for that. If you noticed the "possible character death" tag, don't worry, no one actually dies. The ending is left open, so you can believe whatever you want to believe. As for the "suicidal thoughts", we all know about Naxzela-  
> Those are also only implied though, so don't worry.  
> Special thanks to my friends Sam and Mika for betaing this story!  
> Welp, enjoy!

Well, he certainly never thought it would happen like this. 

He can't say he's surprised really, seeing how his life has been so far. And maybe it's not so bad after all, right? Maybe it's for the best.

Everyone's always told him things happen for a reason, and now he thinks he gets it: his birth was an accident (no one's ever specifically told him that, but why else would his mum have left?), and he thinks he was probably a burden to his dad. He doesn't remember much of him, mostly soft smiles and warm laughter, long days under the sun looking out into the desert and a soothing voice telling him stories now long forgotten.

But mostly he remembers shouting and crying, being blamed for things he didn't know a kid could be blamed for, burning cigarettes and apologies. The last sincere apologies ever given to him, if he's being honest. Apologies that numbed the pain, but never really _explained._

Questions. So many questions. _Where's mum? All the other kids have one, why don't I? Was I a bad kid? Is that why she left? When will she come back?_

And always the same answer: _She loved you. So much._

So he learned to stop asking. Avoid the other kids that just made fun of him. 

And then there was fire. Everywhere. It was hard to breathe and he couldn't see and everything was _red._ Then black.

When he woke up, Dad was gone. 

_"He saved your life sweetie"_ they said. 

_"We did everything we could, but it was too late"_ they said.

 _"He loved you"_ they said. 

_"That never stopped them from leaving"_ he'd wanted to say.

He stayed quiet. 

* * *

And now, he thinks maybe it was his fault. His mum left because of _him,_ his dad died saving _him._

People didn't leave, he _made_ them leave.

He's trying to think of some other way to save them, because contrary to popular belief, he doesn't _want_ to die. He guesses a selfish part of him keeps hoping for a better future, but in this moment, he can't _see_ any future. 

_Naxela is a bomb! And it's about to go off!_

_Thrusters are at max!_

What is he supposed to do? 

He can't lose them. Not now. Not like this. 

_Not again._

* * *

After that, everything was a blur. He usually hates to think about this part of his life, and does his best to forget, but it's harder than it seems. He can't quite get rid of the numbing sadness or the crushing fear he had during his first days in his first foster home. He remembers trying his best at first, but it was all harsh words, glares, slaps and hits and disgust. Kids stealing his lunch, making fun of him, and giving him bruises who's ghosts roam his skin to this day. 

They should have seen it coming, really. They should've known he would snap. 

_"Two broken noses and a cracked rib"_ they told him. _" You do realize how bad that is for a 7 year old, right? That we'll have to take precautions"_

He didn't care. They moved him to a different foster home, and assigned him to a therapist. He doesn't remember her name, doesn't want to. Probably never cared enough to learn it. Because after that he learned that _not caring_ was the easiest way out. If he didn't make ties, stayed by himself, minded his own business, no one would be able to hurt him. 

_"Don't go close enough for them to hurt you"_ his father had once told him at the zoo. _"But don't show them you're afraid. If you do, they'll come to you"_

People really weren't that different from animals.

He changed several families, but usually snapped sooner or later, because that's who he was, never able to control his feelings, keep his words for himself. 

_Temper issues_ they said he had. Maybe if he'd explained that the other kids started it, that he never meant to _hurt_ anyone, that he was just trying to _survive,_ maybe it would've all been different.

He stayed quiet.

* * *

Time is ticking, and Keith feels useless. 

_Follow my lead!_

_We've gotta break through that shield!_

But it's not working, it's not fucking _working_ and they're all going to die. They're going to die and he's going to have to watch. His _family_ is going to die and he won't be able to do anything. And then what? If they die, he dies too. And he wishes it were him, because if he dies... then at least it's not them. 

The universe needs them.

The universe has never given a shit about Keith.

* * *

He liked to think that when he'd be grown up, and his problems would all seem so little and so far away, meeting Shiro would still be the biggest turning point in his life. 

He had decided to join the Garrison because he loved the stars. Keith never really _loved_ anything, never let himself because he knew how much love could hurt, because _they loved you_ kept ringing inside his head on sleepless nights, because, like everything, love ended. 

But stars. Stars were permanent. No matter how many times he moved, no matter where he went, no matter how much he _lost,_ he would go outside and they'd be there, shining, waiting for him with open arms. He knew stars died too, but he also knew they exploded in their own light. 

He wanted to go like them. He wanted to be an explosion, he wanted to take everything that had hurt him along with him, and he wanted his last moments to be bright, to maybe make up for all the darkness he'd had in his life. 

And his dream was to reach the stars. The Garrison was just the most convenient way of getting there. 

He liked the idea of space, of the quiet and of being alone, in a place where he was so small that his problems disappeared. 

When he met Shiro, he decided he was going to bring him along. Because he was the first person that didn't give up on him, the first person that didn't run away, the first person that _cared._ He felt like family, he was the brother Keith had never had. 

And they took him away.

_Mission failed, pilot error, no bodies, dead-_

When he punched Iverson, when they kicked him out, when he crossed blue eyes looking at him from afar, blue eyes he didn't know would later mean so much to him, he wanted to scream, cry, yell, _why him._

He stayed quiet.

* * *

_We're not going to make it!_

_We'll never penetrate their shields!_

But he can’t lose them. And that’s when he realizes that maybe this was the point of it all. Why he had to leave, why he’s not with them right now, why he had to be built this way, why life forced him into who he is today. Maybe he was always meant to save them.

_“...maybe not with our weapons”_

There’s screams. Matt is telling him to stop, the others sound confused, but he tunes it all out. Because he was never supposed to let them close enough to hurt him, maybe if he hadn’t he would have survived. But for once he doesn’t want to survive. He wants to live, to _feel,_ and he knows he won’t be able to do so without them. 

The universe needs them to be ok, but mostly _he_ needs them to be ok.

As he flies towards the shield, he doesn’t need to think about why he chose them.

The choice was never his to begin with.

And strangely enough, that thought makes him happy. Maybe this isn’t how he imagined to go, but he’ll be saving them. He thinks he’s finally reached the stars. 

_I’m sorry_ he thinks. _I love you_

He stays quiet. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry.
> 
> except i'm not ahahahaha
> 
> (the title of the fic is from Softcore by The Neighborhood


End file.
